This is my kingdom come
by orsumfenix
Summary: AU. Where supers and anyone affiliated with them are hunted down, they're just trying to survive.


**So, this is my first attempt at a YJ fanfiction, and I'm not sure whether it's any good or not, but I really would appreciate it if people like, reviewed and stuff, or even _bothered _to read it. **

**Um... let's just pretend Season 2 didn't happen. It's kind of my version, I guess, where Artemis and Wally are both twenty, but it's like a kind of dark future. I don't know if anyone will like it or want me to continue, but I hope that they do. **

**Disclaimer: If I owned Young Justice, I wouldn't be writing a _fan_fiction about it. **

**Well, here we go, I guess. **

**Hope you enjoy! **

* * *

**This is my kingdom come **

* * *

Aim. Shoot. Dodge. _Kill. _

It's almost hard keeping up with the attacks, as they come every few minutes or so. As soon as she knocks out one person, another takes their place and forces her to keep going, despite her sweaty and weary body refusing to be fast enough. She's already lost count of the amount of times she's almost been killed simply because she was too slow.

She pants as she gets in a lucky punch with the woman she's currently fighting, one around twenty-something with a fierce expression and short, spiky black hair. Her bow and arrows somehow got yanked away from her during her fight, and now she's using purely her fists and physical combat skills.

She's really thankful to Black Canary right now.

Her fist connects directly with the woman's jaw, sending her reeling back. Still, she doesn't work with the Institution for nothing, and doesn't give up that easily, she comes flying back with two punches to Artemis' stomach, making her resist the urge to just curl up in a ball and protect it.

But, while her father and she might not exactly be on the best terms, he raised her to be strong, and she's not going to let something as stupid as a tummy ache stop her from beating this woman.

Her next punch probably breaks the lady's nose, if the sickening crack is anything to go by, and she can't help but smirk as the Institution worker goes down clutching a bleeding nose. It's all wonky and mashed up on her face. _She _won't be fighting anytime soon, if her expression of pure pain is a hint of the agony she's currently feeling.

Before Artemis can properly catch her breath, the woman's position is replaced by a big brute of a man, sweating and breathing heavily, looking wounded, but determined. And, unlike her, who simply has her fists, he's sporting a weapon – a heavy-looking wooden club. A bit primitive, but better than nothing. Oh, great. She's probably going to get seriously beat up with that thing.

Nevertheless, she doesn't hesitate to launch into combat, ducking as the man swings the club sideways and delivers a kick in his stomach (it murders her leg, but it's nice to see his look of shock). She's glad to see that he doesn't seem to know what he's _actually _doing, that he's just kind of going for it. Which gives her a distinct advantage, seeing as she actually does have an _inkling _how to fight.

She doesn't stop and give him a chance to regain his footing, though – she just keeps going, continuing to punch him in the stomach as much as she can, sending him tumbling back and onto the floor. He looks pretty out of it, but somehow he manages to use his last bit of strength to send the club flying upwards and smashing into her shoulder.

It connects and she sees red. She's been injured enough times to know when it's been dislocated, and she mutters a curse under her breath. It's going to be considerably harder to fight now.

_Well, damn. _

She hisses under her breath and she reaches towards her arrows lying just a few metres away, trying (and failing) not to stumble over there. It would seem the other jailers haven't noticed her victory yet – they probably all expected the man she was fighting to last a bit longer.

It wrecks as she grabs her bow and arrows, but she grits her teeth and pulls off getting them anyway. She can't afford to be weak, not in a battle.

Artemis stifles a groan as she notches an arrow and pulls it back, not hesitating to let off one that hits a guy currently doing decent against M'Gann. The Martian, noticing her, shoots her a grateful look before launching back into combat with another woman. The archer simply nods once before making a desperate sprint up to the metal stairs, which look pretty dodgy, but would provide her with a way up to the catwalk up there.

As she runs up, she stairs creak and groan under her, making her nervous that it's going to suddenly collapse form under her and send her tumbling to her death. But, surprisingly, they hold under her and allow her to reach the top safe and unharmed (relatively), and Artemis begins her reign of up high.

She shoots at as many of the Institution's henchmen as she can, taking down ones sneaking up on her friends and getting any attempting to climb up after her.

She's aiming to get a guy cornering Zatanna when she hears a creak coming from somewhere on her left. Artemis quickly lets the arrow fly and hit the man before whipping round to face whoever managed to sneak up here.

She loads another arrow and aims it at the man in front of her. He's your average jailer, a tall guy with bulging muscles and a short buzz-cut for hair, about thirty something, grim expression plastered on his face. She knows that he's here to try and take her away or, failing that, execute her in the name of the Institution, but that doesn't make it any easier.

He blinks, as if noticing her weapon for the first time. Then she sees something in his eyes she wishes she hadn't seen. _Fear. _This man was scared, scared of dying, but also scared of failing. He seems to realise that she's not going to give up her life, not any time soon.

She quickly shoots at his hand, hitting the gun clutched rather tightly in there, ignoring his little gasp of shock and notching another arrow, pointing it back in its previous position aimed at his head.

His gun is lying on the floor several feet away now. All his comrades are busy fighting hers, down below them. No one could possibly reach them in time. He has no one coming to help him.

"Please," he whispers, just before she's about to shoot. She freezes at that statement, mainly because no one's ever sounded so _heartbroken_ in front of her before. In fact, no one's ever pleaded with her before. She's never given them the chance. Just shot them without taking a moment to stop and _think _about the fact that she's taking a life, mainly because now it's kill or be killed.

But there's no way this guy can kill her.

The man can see her hesitating, and he begins to step back, away from her arrow, wincing when her grip tightens and follows him. He looks desperately around. She follows his gaze. Most of the people he came with are either on the floor or still fighting. The ones on the floor... She mentally shivers. They're either already dead, or will be soon.

Her friends are doing well. They're winning. All she has to do is continue to take out as many people as she can, including this guy, even if there's no way he's about to kill her.

"Please," he whispers again, out of desperation more than anything. He has no plan now, no way of avoiding his fate unless he can just change her mind. "I have a wife and kid at home. Please. I need to go home to them."

Her resolve falters at those words. He has a family. Oh god, he has a _family_, something that she never knew the true meaning of. Her mum, sure, but her dad? Her sister? Nuh uh. They were more like the villains she was fighting than the people she's supposed to be protecting.

"Artemis!" a voice calls from below. She looks down to see Zatanna losing a fight with a particularly bulky man, before muttering something under her breath and sending him flying. She shoots the archer what is probably meant to be a reassuring smile, but looks more like a grimace. "We have to get out of here!"

They do, she realises with a shock. They've taken most of the men down, now, but several that littered the ground seem to be regaining consciousness. Soon they might have another fight on their hands, one they can't afford, not after last time.

She looks back at the man, who is openly shaking and crying now. He knows what's coming. And she knows it too.

"Please..." he whispers brokenly. "My family..."

But _she _has a family now, she realises. A family that she's ready to leave with, a family that will always welcome her, no matter what she's done. Not her dad and Jade/Cheshire. The others on her team, the ones that fought with her even after learning about her _other _family.

A family that will be hurt if she allows this man to go free.

Her shoulder is killing her, making her want to scream with agony, forcing her to keep her mouth clamped shut and bite down on her lip and draw blood just to be able to stay silent and strong.

She thinks of the person most dear to her, one with obnoxiously bright red hair and splashes of freckles on his face and a _wonderful _laugh. It's the Institution's fault that he's not there now, not there to comfort her at the end of a long day and steal some ice cream and find an empty flat to watch a movie in. And this man works for the Institution. It's his fault that Wally's gone, taken away to some stupid camp, no matter how indirectly.

Her resolve hardens, and Artemis lets the arrow fly.

* * *

Artemis leaves the warehouse feeling just that little bit better about herself.

She thinks of him yelling in agony as the arrow pierced his lower left calf, falling to the floor and clutching his leg as the blood poured out. She'd run out after that, but he looked at her with one expression in his eyes: _thank you_.

She could have killed him, so easily, but instead she chose to spare him, and merely give herself the opportunity to escape.

She almost smiles, but then thinks of Wally, and her expression remains impassive instead.

They're all exhausted, trouping out with minor injuries like sprained wrists and broken fingers and, in her case, disjointed shoulders. They got lucky, this time. At least they didn't lose another of them. They can't afford that, not after last time.

Dick (because they've known each other _far _too long to _not _use their real names) is at the front, walking slowly and nursing a dodgy wrist. Zatanna walks next to him, their arms linked. Looks like they finally got together. Good for them. They deserve some happiness.

Kaldur and Conner walk behind her, kind of like guards, she supposes. They have their weapons – or in Conner's case, hands – out and ready to use. They all do. She has her loaded arrow brandished, pointing at the dark and empty roadside. She's completely ready to shoot.

M'Gann (or, as she now prefers, Megan – says it gives her more of a 'human taste') walks beside her, shooting sympathetic looks her way every few seconds. It's getting annoying, and it's not long before Artemis can't take it anymore.

"What?!" she demands hotly, scowling. She's been even more hostile since the last battle, since they lost... _Wally. _"Why'd you keep staring at me?"

A flicker of hurt crosses over M'Gann – no, Megan, sorry, Megan's – face, but it's gone as quickly as it came and the Martian adopts a determined look.

"I'm sorry," she apologises, still ever-eager to please. "I just – I'm _worried _about you." She gestures at the rest of them. "We _all _are."

Dick turns from the front and shoots her a look, as if to say 'don't drag me into this', but then Zatanna tugs on his arm and he turns back around.

Artemis turns her head rudely, looking back out at the dark roadside, trying to ignore the part of her begging to just turn around and start crying into Megan's shoulder. _No. _She has to stay strong. She can't allow herself to just fall down and crumble.

The team _need _her.

_Wally _needs her.

A hand on her arm startles her, making her head whip back round. Dick, of all people (she mustn't have noticed him approach), is standing there with a pitying look on her face, hesitantly drawing his arm back.

Everyone else has come to a stop by her, some (Megan and Zatanna) exchanging looks and some (Kaldur and Conner) looking around, still half expecting an attack.

"Megan's right," he says quietly, so quietly she almost doesn't hear it, looking around nervously (Kaldur and Conner evidently aren't the only ones waiting to be attacked). He doesn't seem to know what to say, but Zatanna moves to stand next to him and takes his hand in hers, smiling sadly. It seems to give him the motivation to go on, as he smiles back nervously and takes a deep breath. "You just – you haven't been the same since we lost Wally…"

Dick trails off seeing the livid expression on her face, one that took form the second she heard those words.

_We lost Wally. _

"We have _not _lost him," she hisses, hating herself as she does. "If we… if we can just find him… then…"

She stops, finding herself unable to go on. She takes a deep breath at feeling the tears burning in her eyes, stepping forward and away from the others. She can't face them, not now. She can't be strong the way they need her to be.

"We should leave the area," a voice she vaguely recognises as being Kaldur's speaks from behind her. "We can't be here when the reinforcements arrive."

The only response he receives is a grunt from someone – probably Conner. Then the others all approach her and take their previous positions, all of them beginning to walk again.

Megan doesn't look at her.

The continue the rest of the walk in silence, Zatanna occasionally whispering something to Dick and shooting a look at Artemis that she probably thinks is discrete (but it really isn't). She can practically _feel _Kaldur and Conner's gazes burning into her back, waiting for her to slip up and start crying. Well, she's just not going to do that. She has to stay strong. She can't afford to show any weakness.

Eventually, after a couple _hours _of walking in seemingly no direction in near-total silence, Dick suggests they stop at a motel, one that she hadn't noticed was there so wrapped up in her thoughts. It's got one of those neon signboards that's supposed to be flashing but is mainly just flickering dimly.

The motel is shabby, dirty, cheap, in the middle of nowhere and exactly what they need.

The woman at reception is entirely unhelpful, a small woman with blue hair that would rather read her magazine and listen to music than serve them, but that's what they're after, too. Someone that will give them a room without really looking at them and won't ask for proof of identification. If Wally were there, he'd probably flirt with her, despite the fact that his lover was present.

They ask for three rooms, one for two of them, and the woman barely tears her eyes away from her magazine to hand them the keys to rooms 1, 5 and 6, eyes devouring a seemingly particularly juicy article. Artemis wants to scoff at that – she's always found it stupid, how people have nothing better to do with their time than read up about something that's either been over-exaggerated or isn't even true at all, but then an image of Wally comes into her head. Wally, who always laughed when she went off on a rant about it and pointed her out on the fact that she always watched Big Brother when it was on ("You're not reading an article, you're watching their lives happen," he'd said teasingly once, eyes shining), and a pang runs through her.

Artemis doesn't scoff.

It goes unspoken between them that Conner and Megan room together, in Room 1, which turns out to have an actual _working _fan that spins round annoyingly in the middle of the room. Then Dick and Zatanna claim Room 5, which is more like a _ho_tel room than a _mo_tel one, all clean and neat and organised. Both turn out to be in surprisingly good shape considering the first impression one would get from the outside of the motel, but all of them are too exhausted to point this out.

If this was Before, she would room with Wally, but this is After, so that leaves her with Kaldur, in the room opposite Zatanna and Dick's, Room 6.

They get into the room to find it's one of those lovebird ones, one with a double bed and a red, heart-shaped couch. The two exchange looks, and no doubt if Kaldur were Wally then the two would burst out laughing immediately, but Kaldur simply raises an eyebrow.

"Would you like to sleep on the bed?" he asks, ever the gentleman. (If it were Wally, he'd simply leap on the huge bed and inform her that she was getting the sofa.) Artemis simply shrugs, walking over to the couch and plopping herself down there, lying back and stretching out.

"I'm fine here," she informs shortly and crisply, turning so that she doesn't have to look at him and placing her quiver on the arm. It's all she has, since Wally had everything of theirs in one big bag that is now gone with him.

Artemis can hear Kaldur move about in the room, placing his own bag (fully equipped with all his possessions) down on the floor and climbing into the big bed. Neither of them bother with the pleasantries of goodnights or wishes of sweet dreams. Kaldur knows how she feels – he lost Raquel when the Institution first came after them.

Except he doesn't know how she feels, because Raquel isn't still alive.

That the Institution should take Wally, take him away to one of their stupid camps and brand him with a number, as if he's worth nothing more than that, as if he's worth nothing more than that… Artemis feels like crying. No one deserves that, especially not Wally.

Oh, _Wally_.

Later, Artemis will pretend that she didn't cry that night, didn't let her eyes fill with tears or her shoulders shake or tears to leave hot trails down her cheeks, but the sad truth is that she does.

* * *

**This is my kingdom come **

* * *

He stares at the number on his arm. _**00204**_. That's all he is now: a number. That's all he is to these people.

One of the guards closet to him, about forty-something with thinning grey hair and a permanent scowl etched onto his face, grunts at him and twists his face into a sneer, tightening his grip on the gun he holds. He is soon joined by another, younger, cockier man, who is already seared into Wally's mind as being the one who causes the most disturbances, liking to tease and anger the prisoners.

He knows this, and he's only been here two weeks.

"Getting tired, 204?" he taunts, pronouncing it two-oh-four. He doesn't have a name here. Just a number. "Didn't think you had it in you. Speedsters are practically _buzzing _with energy. Just like the Flash," he continues conversationally, smirking when he sees his prisoner's glare. "'Course, we soon put a stop to that."

Wally glares, trying to mask his hurt and failing. What this man has said has struck a nerve. His Uncle Barry arrived here years ago, when this all began, along with most of the heroes. He's not sure about the others, but he knows for a fact that his mentor was executed after three months, whilst trying to protect Iris, who was taken here, too. Both were killed.

He doesn't want to meet the same fate as them, and the rules are strict and unbreakable here, so he grits his teeth and gets back to work, resisting the urge to smile as the guard gets bored with his lack of reaction and meanders off.

The shovel goes in and out. In and out. In and out. He dumps all the dirt on the pile beside it, already weary with exhaustion. Like the younger guard said, speedsters are practically buzzing with energy, but that's only if they get enough food. Which he's _not _been getting.

And it's draining his spirits.

He hasn't bothered making the witty comments he'd quipped when he first got here. That stupid _collar _taught him not to do that. Break the rules even slightly, and it sends a shock through your system, enough to hurt like hell but not enough to knock you out. Get shocked too many times, and they take you away to another camp, one that's supposed to be even worse than this one, if that's possible.

(He only knows all this because Hartley told him – Hartley, as in, the Pied Piper. The Institution hunts down heroes and villains alike, as well as anyone affiliated with them, which is why they took his Aunt Iris. Hartley is now actually someone he's willing to call a friend.) (Hartley has been here for two years. He knows how things work better than Wally, who only has two weeks of record.)

The shovel goes in and out. In and out. In. Out. In. Out. In…

There is a yell from across the area. Wally's head snaps up to see Len Snart, of all people, aka Captain Cold, yelling and attacking the closest guard there with… is that a shovel? Yeah, it's a shovel. Len is attacking a guard with his shovel, showing no sign of stopping despite the shocks undoubtedly being sent through him. The guards beside the speedster rush over there to help restrain the angry ex-Rogue (because they're all ex-somethings now), as well as pretty much every other jailer close by.

Abandoning their prisoners.

Wally exchanges looks with some of the other prisoners there, all wearing the same boring grey outfit that sticks to you and shows off every flaw (it's a good job he doesn't have many). One of the women closest to him, a teenage girl who can't be more than thirteen, is the first to take advantage of the situation and bolt, heading for the fence that is put up all around them, wielding her shovel like a weapon. Nobody tries to stop her – the guards are all busy trying to control Len (also a kinda friend now – _the enemy of my enemy is my friend_), and all the other prisoners are either staring in awe or making a dash for the fence themselves.

Wally himself is the former.

He snaps out of his trance as Hartley runs past, almost knocking him down and as it is scraping his arm with the shovel. It knocks him out of his shock, though, and he hefts his own shovel up and follows the guy without hesitation. This might be his only chance to escape.

He, being a speedster, reaches the gate just before Hartley (but still not properly daring to use his ability) and joins the first girl, digging under the bottom of the fence in a desperate attempt to make a tunnel leading out. It's a pretty hopeless notion, really, but maybe with everyone there (about fifty prisoners working with him) they might be able to get out.

A shovel soon joins his own, and it takes Wally a moment to realise that Hartley is next to him, digging at the space next to his, grinning at him like a maniac.

"Hey," a voice says that recognises as his own. "What's up with our collars? They should be zapping us like crazy by now."

And what about Len's collar? He didn't seem to react to the shocks at all.

Hartley grins even wider, if that's possible.

"Planned," is his simple response. "We've got an inside man. Disabled the controller for us."

Inside man? Wally blanches at the thought. That doesn't seem possible. The Institution is thorough in checking the backgrounds of all their employees, and if they see _any _suspicious behaviour, they don't hesitate to imprison or execute them. And pretty much every person not a super or affiliated with one is brainwashed into thinking that it's evil to be. To convince someone to be on the Rogues' side is a near impossible feat.

"Inside man?" he asks, raising an eyebrow, but his former enemy simply grins even wider and keeps digging. Wally decides to focus, too, putting all his remaining energy into getting under the fence.

He risks a peek back and smiles just at the sight. The jailers all look confused, some being held back by prisoners that have somehow managed to overpower them and some attempting to stop what would appear to be the first breakout since the Institution first started rounding them up. One manages to pull a young boy away from where he's digging with the adults, only to be whacked in the face by another guy, going down with a gushing nose.

But there is one sight that sickens him to the core and makes his smile fade. Most of the ex-villains, the ones such as the Joker and all that, got sent to a 'more harsh' camp, a place that's supposed to be even more horrible than here. It's mainly the less dangerous ones still at this camp, like the Rogues, who the Institution is more than happy to mix with the heroes. He's heard that in the other breakouts (none of them actually _successful_) that some jailers got injured, but never worse than that. Even at the really bad places, injury was only ever the worst consequence for a guard.

But right now, some bodies of guards are already lying on the floor, bloody and beaten and… if not dead, then very near it. Some prisoners have been here since four years ago, and that's four years of imprisonment they probably want revenge for. He can understand, vaguely, but still. Murder… it's something he just doesn't agree with, no matter what the situation.

That's not what chills him to the core, though.

One person, a man, clearly a prisoner with the same outfit on and the same shovel hanging awkwardly in his hand, is grinning like a maniac and wielding a gun, one that he must have nicked off a guard. He's currently about to shoot a jailer, a young woman no more than twenty who looks petrified. Wally doesn't blame her. She probably only took his job so that she could support her family, and now she's getting killed for it.

He's faltered, watching the horror of the scene playing out before him. The woman – no, girl, she's practically a girl – is crying, looking round desperately for someone, anyone, to save her.

But nobody's coming.

Hartley's asking what he's doing, sounding really annoyed, like he's being ridiculous. He guesses he is, to be honest, but a young girl's about to be _murdered _and no one else seems to care.

But he's not doing anything, either.

He glances back at the fence in distaste.

"Screw this," he mutters, straightening up, ignoring Hartley trying to grab him, dropping his shovel, and speeds over there.

It's strange, using his speed again. He hasn't used it in two weeks, which doesn't seem like a lot, but for a speedster that's _far _too long to go without running, even if it's just to the corner shop. It doesn't help his situation that he's currently malnourished, but he'd rather collapse from exhaustion than let someone die when he could have done something to stop it.

He doesn't bother with a fight – he really doesn't have the energy for it. Instead, he simply picks up the girl, ignoring her slight squawk of surprise, and carries her all the way to the other end of the courtyard before setting her gently down. He can see the guy that was going to shoot her freaking out back where he was, yelling about how _she _must be a super, too. Then he catches sight of Wally and freezes, face twisting into a snarl, before lifting up the gun and beginning to shoot madly in his direction.

It's surprisingly easy to dodge the bullets, for both him _and _the girl, as each lands somewhere over their heads, probably over the _fence_. That doesn't stop her from being terrified, though, sprinting off in the direction of the building, where he assumes reinforcements are struggling to get through the rather large steel doors. The maniac guy is still shooting like mad, and somehow Wally can hear the shots over the rest of the din in the courtyard.

He can't be bothered standing there like an idiot and basically waiting for one to hit him, so he speeds over and has the guy disarmed and pinned down on the floor in seconds. The man screams something indistinguishable in his face spittle flying everywhere, but Wally just continues to hold him down and try to find a way to incapacitate him without weapons that somehow doesn't include killing him.

His prayers appear to be answered when Hartley runs over and slams his shovel on the guy's head, effectively rendering him unconscious. The older boy is panting and looks furious, settling his glare on Wally's face as he stands up and steps over the man, heading back towards the fence, where some other prisoners have somehow managed to join the ones originally outside and are clawing and biting and scratching at the fence in a desperate attempt to get out. It disgusts him, in a way, how both heroes _and _villains have turned completely barbaric whilst trying to escape. Hardly anyone's actually bothering to _dig _anymore – they're all just fighting to get out.

Hartley grabs his arm, seemingly about to say something nasty, if the expression on his face is anything to go by, but just at that moment that steel doors that have been holding strongly against the people fighting against them swing open and people come pouring out. Instead of the extra jailers he was expecting, though, the rest of the prisoners that seem to have been released (probably by that 'inside man' Hartley was going on about) stampede outside, all pushing and shoving each other in an attempt to reach the fence first.

Wally's pretty sure he can see the pretty blonde guard he saved earlier get swept up in the ground, probably only to be crushed and trampled on. It makes him feel sick, that these people seem to have been treated badly for so long they've forgotten their humanity.

Hartley seems to notice his expression of disgust and grins widely, ignoring the ever-approaching riot.

"Some of these guys have been locked away and treated like dirt for four years!" he shouts gleefully, face lit-up for some reason. Dear god, he's as crazy as them. "There's a lot of hell to pay!"

Wally can barely hear him, and he's about to shout back his own response when the crowd reaches them.

Hartley whoops and hollers as he goes with the mass of people, yelling about freedom and revenge and how those 'filthy Institutes' will pay for what they have done.

Wally himself isn't really focusing on that. He's trying not to get crushed as hundreds of bloodthirsty prisoners all desperate to get away from the place they've spent the last few years locked away in. he knows that he's so far had it easy at this camp. Others have been treated so much worse than he has.

It's impossible to stay still with so many people pushing and shoving against him, and he'd rather not fall over and be trampled to death, so pretty much his only option is to run with them. He's practically deafened as a woman lets out a shrill scream in his ear, making him wince. God, these people are _crazy_. What's happened to them?

Before he can properly think about it, Wally is slammed into a bunch of other people, who in turn are slammed into the fence. Everyone's desperately trying to reach the fence and get out, all calling out to each other and just plain hitting each other to get there first.

"Stop!" he finds himself yelling, even though he knows it's pretty hopeless. No one listens – they all just keep yelling and shouting and clawing at the fence.

They're insane. Bloody insane. They're going to get themselves killed, and drag him along for the ride.

Before he can do anything, before he can pull someone away from the fence or even _attempt _to escape the thronging mass of people, a shock runs through his system, the electric shock he's virtually been waiting for, and, judging by the sounds of the other prisoners wailing, it's going through them, too.

The shock is worse than the others he's received, enough to make his vision blur and his head spin. A man next to him stumbles and falls over, only to be kicked about by other prisoners as they all surge forward to the fence again. A young girl, the first one to run, is shoved right into it and catches her cheek on a jagged edge, letting out a cry of pain. He wants to help her, he really does, but it's hard to breathe after that shock and the smoke isn't helping.

Wait.

_Smoke? _

There's a blazing fire at the centre of the courtyard, only now beginning to burn ferociously enough for him to notice. Some of the prisoners are stood around it, yelling and dancing around in glee. The rest of them… _oh god_, the rest of them…

Wally takes a deep breath in order to try and stay calm. The prisoners are grabbing the jailers and throwing them on, not caring whether they're live or dead, laughing in glee as screams of pure agony piece the air. He can hear a female guard shriek in horror as someone grabs her and chucks her on, before all her screams fall short. That's almost worst in a way.

The next shock is enough to send him to his knees, making the world spin and every inch of his body feel as if he's being raked with sharp nails. He's not the only one to fall to the floor – several other people join him, most crying and wailing and screaming.

Oh god, they _are _insane.

He can vaguely see someone's shock send them toppling onto the fire, but the smoke's getting into his lungs and he can't breathe and people are tripping over him and all so _loud _and he can't breathe and _**shock! **_And he can't think because it's all so overwhelming and he wants Artemis, yes that's what he needs, he needs Artemis, because _**shock! **_He doesn't want to go insane, not like these people who are biting clawing scratching _screaming _and the shocks are getting worse and it _hurts _and…

_**Shock! **_

**So, thanks for reading, and if you could leave a review then that would be really nice. **


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